Classic rap lyrics about life, love, money and more.
Perm in your hair or even a curly weave,
Wichya New Edition Bobby Brown button on your sleeve.
I tell you come here, you say, ‘Meet me half way,’
Cause brothers been popping that game all day.
I’ll have you weak in the knees that you could hardly speak,
Or we could do like Uncle L and swing an ep in my Jeep.
My radio’s loud like a fire alarm:
The floor vibrates, the walls cave in,
The bass makes my eardrums seem thin.
Def sounds in my ride, yes the front and back…
You would think it was a party, not a Cadillac!
I want a girl with extensions in her hair,
Bamboo earrings, at least two pair,
A Fendi bag and a bad attitude,
That’s all I need to get me in a good mood.
She can walk with a switch and talk with street slang,
I love it when a woman ain’t scared to do her thing.
Me and Frosted went to get a drink.
But she ordered somethin’ bugged, and I ain’t know what to think.
She ordered potassium, calcium,
Carbohydrate, scotch with sodium.
She took me to her crib, threw me on the couch…
I woke up the next morning with a spoon in my mouth.
Y’all niggas ain’t ILL…you’re ILLogical.
You got a man? That’s somethin we will talk about.
He’s smart enough to have ya, but dumb enough to let ya out.
Every little boy wanna pick up the mic,
And try to run with the big boys and live up to the real hype.
But that’s like pickin up a ball, playin with Mike,
Swingin at Ken Griffey or challengin’ Roy to a fight.
My radio, believe me, I like it loud,
I’m the man with a box that can rock the crowd.
Walkin’ down the street, to the hardcore beat
While my JVC vibrates the concrete.
Suckas on my jock when I walk down the block,
I really don’t care if you’re jealous or not.
Serve the curves, I never swerve I’m superb;
Every word you heard played tricks on your nerves.
I’m a beast on the microphone, a night stalker,
A killing machine, a savage street talker,
Jason with an axe, but I put it on wax
To eradicate the suckers who thought I had relaxed.
MC’s they retreat cause they know I can beat ‘em,
And eat ’em in a battle and the ref won’t cheat ’em.
I’m the best takin’ out all rookies,
So forget Oreos…eat Cool J cookies.